by Amity Cross
But I wasn’t fully prepared for what she said next. “You’ll get a full pardon.”
I stilled, then instantly felt guilty that I’d let anything tempt me to give up X, no matter how much we’d fought.
“I don’t give a fuck about me,” I said, not turning.
“Think about it.”
Looking over my shoulder, I caught her gaze. “Never contact me again.”
She nodded slightly, waiting. My threat was clear.
Contact me again, and you’ll get a bullet in your head.
X had trained me well…perhaps too well. He was mine, and I’d go through an entire army to protect him, no matter the shit we argued about.
X was mine.
Eight
X
Mercy still wasn’t back by the time I finished with Weiss.
The bastard had clammed up and wasn’t talking, but I wasn’t surprised. He was right about a lot of things. The moment Vaughn had captured him was the moment Royal Blood had cast him off. They weren’t coming to extract him from us. They weren’t anything. All they gave a shit about was altering their protocols and movements in the event that Weiss spilled his guts. Since he was the biggest coward I’d ever met, that was a given.
In saying all of that, he’d surprised me with his unwillingness to talk. It was like he’d already given up. Dead man walking.
I emerged into the distillery and found Vaughn and Hawkes in the back room. They’d set up a makeshift office of sorts. There was a desk, a sofa and a small bar fridge with an electric kettle sitting on top. A small portable heater was placed in the middle of the room¸ and the two men were huddled around it. It looked like the headquarters of a building site, not the hideout of a criminal intelligence mastermind with a penchant for hanging his victims up by their ankles.
“Done?” Vaughn asked as I closed the door behind me.
“For now.” I glanced around the room like Mercy would be hiding behind the sofa. Fat fucking chance.
“She’ll come back,” Vaughn said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you trust her?”
I scowled. “It’s them I don’t trust.”
“And so you shouldn’t. She’s a smart cookie,” he went on. “She obviously knows what she’s doing.” I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but he waved a hand at me. “I know, X. Hands off. Don’t fuck with her. I get it.”
I snorted. “Good.”
“Did you get anything out of him?” Vaughn asked, nodding toward the direction of the basement where Weiss was currently unconscious. My parting gift.
“Weiss gave me some intel,” I replied. “I want to check it out.”
Vaughn nodded. “Go. I’ll wait around with Hawkes for Mercy. I’ll let you know when she comes back.”
If she comes back, a voice inside my head echoed. Doubt, it was a fickle thing, and I’d never felt it before, but I felt a lot of new things these days.
Hawkes stood, smoothing his jacket with his hands. “I’ll see you out.”
I held my hand up. “No need.”
Vaughn waved his mobile phone at me. “We’ll keep an eye out for her. Don't worry about it.”
I left without another word, placing what little trust I had in The Hangman. I had no other way of contacting Mercy, and for once in my pathetic life, I wished I'd had the forethought to give her a burner phone like I had in Paris. I hadn’t counted on her running off. She and I were one and the same, and knowing she was someplace unknown, ate at me. It burned at the edges of my ruined heart, and if I didn’t shut it off, it would consume me.
So, I turned to the one thing I knew. My training.
Compartmentalizing my anguish, I shut it off and focused on the task at hand. Verifying Weiss’ intel.
The address was in a block at the forefront of a new residential estate on the outskirts of Exeter. Posh, cookie-cutter looking houses with no distinguishing features from the next, other than the gardens and the cars parked along streets and driveways.
I sat in my car two houses down and across the street from my mark and watched the house, still lost as to why Weiss had sent me here.
It had to be a game, a distraction, or some pointless jibe to eat at my crumbling psyche because I was yet to see the significance.
Half an hour passed. Nothing.
Forty-five minutes and there was the flick of a light on the front stoop. The front door opened and a woman emerged from the house.
From this distance it was hard to tell, but she looked to be Asian, her black hair cut to jaw or shoulder length. She wore a heavy black coat, a slate colored scarf around her neck and had a black leather handbag over one shoulder. She was tall, but slight, her movements suggesting she was athletic.
I didn’t recognize her at all.
What was Weiss up to? This woman looked…normal. She was beautiful, but normal.
She slid into a new looking black sedan, and a moment later, the engine flared to life and the headlights switched on. The car reversed smoothly from the driveway, and I turned my face to the side as it passed. Waiting until she’d reached the corner, I turned the keys in the ignition and did a sharp U-turn, keeping my lights off until I’d spotted which direction she was headed.
I followed her from a distance, keeping one eye behind me and the other on her car as she drove through Exeter.
She ended up in the town center, parking in a side street. I coasted past her position and found a spot at the opposite end of the lane. Watching in the rearview mirror, I spotted her walking across the lane, the indicators flashing as she pressed the lock button on the fob.
I slid from my car closing the door softly and lifting the handle so it would lock. My ride was old, a vintage muscle car that was black and dangerous but lacked the computerized technology that most new models had. Mercy loved this car.
Pushing her from my mind, I flipped the collar up on my jacket to combat the chill on the night air and followed the woman onto the High Street. She had yet to make me, so I kept at it, leaving a good distance between us. If she were to glance back, then I’d look exactly like any other man on the street. On his way to someplace…to meet friends at the pub, or on his way home to his girlfriend. Just any other guy. It was an absurd notion, but I played the part.
Ahead, the woman slowed, not once checking her surroundings, and stared into the window of a coffee shop. Warm light spilled out onto the street, and I crossed to the opposite side of the road to wait and observe. I ducked into a dark alcove, my view uninterrupted.
It was a little late to be indulging in coffee and cake, but the Starbucks was still open and serving. She pushed through the glass door and began talking with the cashier. A moment later, she handed over some money, moved to the end of the counter and waited for the barista to make up her order.
The woman glanced at her phone and her head rose sharply as her name was called. A brown paper bag and a takeaway cup were placed on the counter and she collected them. It was a normal, everyday occurrence. Coffee and cake. Lots of people did it, so why was this woman important enough for Weiss to give me her address? There had to be something I was missing.
The woman sat at a table by the window, pulling a muffin from the bag and sipping on her drink. Fishing around in her handbag, she brought out a pen, and smoothed out the paper bag and began writing.
My brow furrowed. It could mean anything. There were a dozen explanations I could think of off the top of my head—she was a businesswoman, or a writer with a sudden flash of inspiration, but experience told me to err on the side of caution and to wait and watch.
She sat for at least ten minutes, drinking her coffee and writing, before she rose. Leaving her cup behind, the muffin only picked at, she balled the paper bag up in her hand. She glanced at her phone, then around at the patrons in the coffee shop and left. A few paces down the street, she dropped the bag into the bin and moved off.
It was then that it hit me, the force of it like a full-on sucker punch to the gut.
I’d jus
t witnessed a dead drop.
She was Intelligence.
Nine
X
She’s with me.
I stared at the text message from Vaughn and scowled.
I sat behind the wheel of my car and watched the woman drive away. After her dead drop, she’d walked around the block, doubled back and only then had returned to her vehicle. There was no doubt about her identity now.
I was rattled, and I was never rattled. If what I was suspecting was true, then Intelligence had gotten wind of my existence. Mine and Mercy’s.
Fuck. Weiss had known and had sent me right into their lair. Was that his game? Capture? I would’ve thought handing me over to Royal Blood would’ve been more his style. It would be more painful than a federal prison.
I waited fifteen minutes before turning the key in the ignition and making my way back to the distillery. Ample time for the woman to disappear. Knowing Mercy was safe with Vaughn made relief wash over my senses. Another new emotion to add to the ever increasing list.
The distillery was dark from the outside, but as I knocked on the door, Hawkes was waiting to open it for me. Nodding sharply, I strode toward the makeshift office at the back.
Mercy glanced up as I entered, her expression cold. She was still pissed at me, but I softened slightly at the sight of her. Vaughn was in the background, but I couldn’t even see him…my senses were full of her.
“Where were you?” I asked, my relief coming across as anger.
“Where was I?” she scoffed. “Where were you?”
Vaughn began to laugh, and I glared at him out the corner of my eye. “No arguing kids,” he said. “Go back to your secret hideout and bump uglies. That’ll make everything better.”
“Asshole,” Mercy declared and rose to her feet. To me she said, “Are we going now?”
I nodded.
Vaughn cleared his throat. “What are you doing with Weiss?”
Narrowing my eyes, I decided it was too much to go back and question him just yet, not with Mercy the way she was. “I’ll be back for him.”
“I’m going to have to start charging you rent, you know.”
“Then charge me.”
I gestured for Mercy, and we left the office before Vaughn could complain anymore. It was his gift. I never wanted it so the fucker could just deal with the storage. It was past time to go back to the cottage and face the music with Mercy. Either, we’d argue about what she’d done or sort this shit out. She couldn’t take off again, not without a way to contact me. I didn’t like what it did to me.
“X?” I stilled at the sound of Vaughn’s voice. Just as we were about to leave him behind, too.
I turned as Mercy continued through the door and moved outside to the car.
“Just a heads up,” Vaughn went on. “While you were out, Hawkes got some intel that suggests Royal Blood have been sniffing around.”
“No doubt they’re trying to find out what happened to your houseguest,” I replied.
He grunted. “Just keep your eyes open.” Meaning, he didn’t want me to lead them to him. No problems, I didn’t want to cross paths with them either.
I nodded. “So are Intelligence.”
Vaughn’s eyes widened.
“Weiss sent me directly into their path,” I went on.
“Did they make you?”
“Give me some fucking credit, Vaughn,” I retorted. “I don’t know what they want or who they’ve got tabs on, so watch your ass.”
He nodded his understanding and moved away from the door, letting it close heavily behind me.
Mercy was leaning against the side of the car, watching my approach, no doubt having tried to overhear my exchange with Vaughn. As she pushed off and straightened up, I stuck the key into the lock, but her hand came down on mine before I could let her in.
“I’m not sorry,” she said.
“I know you’re not.” I turned the key, her hand falling away.
“I will defer to my own conscience,” she continued, “whether you like it or not.”
Sighing, I lifted my free hand and trailed a fingertip down her pale cheek. “Who said relationships were easy?”
Her lips curved into a small smile. “No one, ever.”
“I know I require patience…”
“Loads of it.”
I narrowed my eyes and opened the car door for her. “I’ve never had anything to protect before.”
She smiled again and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. “I know.” Then she slid into the seat, effectively ending the conversation. A forced agree to disagree.
Closing the door, I rounded the car as she leaned over to unlock my side. Patience was a fucking virtue, and I needed a lot of it where Mercy was concerned, but it went both ways. We were two overpowering personalities, and no doubt we’d butt heads over everything. It was our first real fight. How fucking normal could you get? Real normal, unless it was an argument over a violent interrogation.
We drove back to the cottage in silence, and as we pulled up into the yard, the first flakes of snow for the winter began to fall. Standing out in the open, Mercy held out her hand, catching a few pieces in her palm.
For a moment, I could almost forget the bullshit of the last two days. For a moment, it was just us and the simplicity I wanted. It was like all those moments we’d spent during the autumn sitting out in the yard on the fallen tree, staring up at the stars and talking about nothing and everything all in the same breath.
The night felt heavy, the air thick with ice, and everything felt extremely close. My boots crunched on the gravel as I moved next to her, our breath vaporizing in puffs in front of us.
Sliding my arm around her waist, I pulled her close and covered her mouth with mine. She responded instantly, her hands trailing up my chest and around my neck, holding me against her. When her lips parted, I deepened our embrace, my tongue twining with hers. Just as suddenly as the mood took me, I pulled away.
“What’s that for?” she whispered, her voice sounding loud in the muffled air.
“A reminder.”
She peered at me and shivered.
“Come,” I said. “I’ll get a fire going.”
“That’s it?” she asked, clinging to me.
I breathed deeply, watching the snow stick to her hair. Single, unique flakes of ice. “For now.”
“I want to talk about it,” she said, her gaze searching mine.
“Tomorrow. Right now, I’m…You're back. That’s enough for now.” I couldn’t manage to get the word glad past my lips.
She cringed slightly. So she hadn’t missed it then.
“Tomorrow,” she echoed.
X marks the spot.
I sat in a chair with my elbow resting on a tabletop, a ballpoint pen in my hand, absently scribbling on a pad of paper. I was at The Gambler’s Inn and it was quiet, which meant it was past closing. My gaze rose as the door opened, and Weiss walked in.
“Fuck,” he cursed as he realized he wasn’t alone.
I smirked at him. “Were you coming in here for a wank after hours? Want me to leave?”
“Dirty prick,” he said with a scowl. “What do you want?”
I tossed the pen aside, realizing I’d covered the page with crosses. “I’m bored. I need a job.”
“All-fucking-ready?” Weiss exclaimed. “You only got back from a job yesterday.”
“It was too easy.” It’d been in and out. Clean and simple. I wanted something more…difficult.
Weiss rolled his eyes. “Bloodthirsty bastard. They trained you almost too well, you know that? I’m getting sick of hitting your reset button.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Reset button?”
“There are things Greggor wants you to do but not remember.”
“Why the fuck do I care?” I didn’t care what I did for him as long as it ended up with someone being dead at the end of it.
Weiss shrugged. “Who the fuck knows?”
“When do I get to meet him?” It’d
been years since I was named by The Watchman, and I hadn’t met the illusive Greggor once. I thought I was a brother.
“All in good time, X.” Weiss nodded toward the door. “You want a job or you want to complain?”
I rose to my feet. “Give me the fucking job.”
Weiss opened the door, and we stepped into my room. The room where I’d been trained all those years ago. Glancing over my shoulder, the door had dissolved into the wall that bore my obsessive compulsion. The millions of tiny x’s scratched into the surface. The entire room smelt like piss and shit. My own fucking filth.
X. X. X. X.
The walls were covered in them.
A whimper broke the silence, and I turned to find a person on their knees in front of me, a brown hessian bag pulled over their head. The man in the hood…
“What is this?” I asked as Weiss held out a gun to me. “I’ve been through this before.”
“Don’t question it, X,” he replied. “You know how they hate that. Unquestioned compliance is what they want.”
With a scowl, I snatched the gun from his hand, clicked off the safety and pressed the barrel against the hessian bag. Right where I estimated the temple to be. No hesitation, huh? I pulled the trigger, the boom of the shot loud in the enclosed space.
The body crumpled, and I glanced at Weiss, who nodded once. “Good.”
“Who was it?” I asked, glancing at the person I’d just murdered.
“Does it matter?”
I frowned. It wasn’t meant to…
Blood seeped through the brown hessian and pooled onto the concrete below. The body was female. I could see the curve of her breasts against her tattered shirt, the slightness of her waist. Leaning down, I reached out with trembling fingers and tugged at the hood.
I jerked backward as I saw who I’d killed. The man in the hood, a test of loyalty… Who was he? Who had they made me kill so I could leave that room and claim my name?
I stared down at Mercy and knew it was bad.
Her eyes stared back at me, her beautiful blue eyes…and they were ice.
